Tempting Virtue
by ShinySherlock
Summary: Bayliss investigates his dark side as Frank suggested. Picks up where the episode "Many Splendored Thing" left off. Not very "Homicidal," since it deals only with Tim dealing with the icky kinky sex that so upset him - no case, no other HLotS characters except a cameo by Frank. Rated M for sex.


_you come out at night; that's when the energy comes_

_and the dark side's light, and the vampires roam_

_you're so beautiful - a beautiful fucked-up man_

_holding on and holding it in_

_- building a mystery, sarah maclachlan_

"It's you," she had said with a confident look as she straightened the leather jacket around his shoulders. She was short and had looked up at him with sly, black-rimmed green eyes from beneath bleached bangs.

He had huffed non-committally. How could it be 'him'? Only a day ago he had been telling Frank how much the entire smarmy business disgusted him: the phone sex, the sadomasochistic club, the whole idea of kinky sex. But Frank had challenged him. Face your dark side, Tim, or else you don't know who you are. Virtue untested is meaningless.

So, against his better judgement, he was going to go out and tempt it.

Investigating the murder of Angela Frandina, the phone sex operator, had exposed him to the discomforting underbelly of Baltimore's night life. Tanya, the manager of the clothing store where Angela had also worked, had given him the leather jacket as a present for solving the murder. It was a nice jacket - black horsehide with silver snaps and zippers, and physically a perfect fit - but he felt ridiculous wearing it at work, and had taken it off a few moments after Tanya had left the squad room. He folded it neatly into its white box and, at quitting time, took it home, tucked under his arm.

After hours of delay, he finally got dressed. Black jeans, a dark grey Henley and the jacket. He ran a hand through his mop of hair and it fell shaggily around his forehead. He looked at himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink.

You look haunted, Tim. Get that weird look out of your eyes.

That nervous, hungry look.

He turned from the mirror. Switched off the light. Left the apartment quickly, before he could change his mind.

He wandered around the main drag for almost an hour. Hookers with short, short skirts and bright red lipstick approached him, with voices full of promise. Hustlers in doorways called out to him to "take a look" at the strip shows inside. But he was nervous, and somehow convinced someone might see him, so he refused everything. He stopped in a dank, hole-in-the-wall bar and downed two beers, hoping it would calm him down.

So far, his trip into the dark side of himself had not been very successful. Frankly, he didn't know where to start. But maybe, he knew someone who could help him. He pulled bills from his wallet and left them on the bar, then walked out into the red neon street.

Shit. The darkened storefront looked very closed. He approached the glass door anyway, peeking in to the room in hopes that she might be around. He tried to glance around racks of jackets and the mannequins in leather bikinis. He squinted and saw a weak belt of light escaping from under a door in the back of the store.

He knocked on the window. Please, please be here. I may not get the courage to do this again. He saw movement: footsteps blocking the light under the door. He knocked again, louder. The light turned off. He couldn't see anything now except the things in the front of the store where the light of the street invaded.

"Who is it?"

He smiled inwardly. It was Tanya's voice.

"Tim Bayliss," he said, wondering if she even knew his first name. "Uh, Detective Bayliss," he amended.

She appeared out of the darkness, dressed in the same black skirt and white shirt she wore when she had visited him at the station. He remembered the black velvet choker around her neck with the crystal charm that dangled at the V of her throat, and it moved now as she smiled at him with a puzzled look. Languidly, she walked towards the door and turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open to let him inside. He smiled shyly at her and

entered, and she locked it securely behind him.

She grinned up at him - he was nearly a foot taller than her. "I know your name, Tim," she said, with an intimacy that made his spine tingle. It took him a moment to realize that she didn't *mean* to be intimate, really; she just *was* intimate. As though she couldn't help it and was unaware of it. It was his own arousal and discomfort that was making him see sex everywhere.

He just nodded at her. Safer than speaking at this point.

"So, what can I do for you?" she asked, her face open, accepting. She would never tease him for being there. She knew how hard it was to begin an exploration. To try something new.

Tim looked around the shop for a moment, then fixed his gaze on the street outside, the obscenely flashing red lights.

He answered honestly, in a soft voice. "I don't know what to do." He looked down to meet her questioning green eyes. "Where to start," he clarified.

She smiled a little, sympathetic. "I'll show you."

She took him to a place hidden in an alley just off the main street. They paid money to burly man at the door, and descended dimly lit steps to a hallway with a row of evenly spaced doors.

He looked back at her as she lingered on the steps.

She smiled encouragingly. "Any open door," she said softly. The panic must have showed on his face because her smile faded.

"Aren't you..." He stopped abruptly, thinking he must sound like an adolescent.

Tanya was a little surprised, but she didn't want him to feel embarrassed. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked sweetly, guessing that he was nervous about doing this alone.

He tried to stand up taller. Feel like a grown man and not some nervous teenager. Failed.

He met her eyes, and nodded once.

She walked over to meet him and they went into an open door together. She shut it closed behind them.

The room was very small, and the little steel bench was almost too small for the both of them, but they scooted together. The walls were painted black, and there was no light. A tall, clear window in front of them looked out onto a black curtain.

They sat in the dark, waiting. He felt her hip and thigh against his own, and her arm lay on the back of the bench behind him.

"What's with everything being black?" he asked softly, the silence being uncomfortable.

"Most people's fantasies aren't exactly bright and shiny," she informed him. The softness, clearness of her voice washed over him in the dark, and he had to wonder if she was doing it intentionally. She was nearly whispering. "The light will come on when she starts."

Without warning, the curtain in front of them began to move. The stage was dark, but he thought he could make out the silhouette of a woman standing in the center.

The spotlight above the stage came on slowly. Light revealed a tall, lithe black woman poised gracefully in the center of the room, with a shock of curly black hair piled on top of her head. She was dressed in a white leather mini skirt with a cropped, matching jacket. For some reason the fact that she was wearing clothing surprised Tim - he supposed that he expected her to be completely naked from the get-go.

Slow, jazzy music started playing through a crackly speaker in the ceiling of the little room: deep piano chords with a beat, and a smoky voice began singing.

I've been a bad, bad girl...

I've been careless with a delicate man...

The woman began moving slowly back and forth, rotating her hips luxuriously around to the music with her back to her viewers. Her slender hands reached up, her arms outstretched, then ran down the length of her body, coming to rest on her well-toned ass. She fingered the hem of her skirt, pulling it up enough to reveal the white panties underneath, then smoothed it down against her milk chocolate skin.

What I need is a good defense

Cause I'm feeling like a criminal...

She danced at a good pace, keeping time with the music, and turned to face her audience. Tim thought she was absolutely beautiful. Her liquid brown eyes seemed to look right at him for a moment and he felt his chest flush beneath the fabric of his shirt. Beside him, Tanya felt the tension leaving his body, and his muscles settled against her.

And I need to be redeemed

To the one I sinned against

Because he's all I ever knew of love...

The husky singer's voice seemed to flow over the dancer, infusing her body, and controlling her movements. She was one with the song, and casually, naturally, she unzipped the jacket she wore, allowing a tantalizing view of her full, rounded breasts when she lifted her arms over her head, or twirled dazzlingly across the stage.

Tim felt the flush spreading throughout his body, bleeding up his neck to his face, and rushing down to his groin as he watched the woman's fingers tremble lightly over her chest, as though teasing herself. She moved her hands to her skirt, shimmying it down to her ankles in a fluid, effortless movement, then kicking it away playfully towards the side of the stage.

Help me but don't tell me to deny it

I gotta cleanse myself of all these lies for him...

Her hands were the key, he thought cloudily to himself. Whenever she touched herself, he imagined his hands tracing her movements. He saw his hand slip inside her panties and rub gently against her center. His fingers found the nipples of her breasts and pinched them, and his hands slid over the porcelain smooth skin

of her rump and squeezed her. His hands were putting that look on her face. His hands were making her bite her lip and close her eyes.

I gotta make a play to make my lover stay

What would an angel say, the devil wants to know...

He was simultaneously aware of Tanya at his side, whose breathing had changed as the woman began touching herself. Short, nearly silent gasps would occasionally escape her pink, full lips as she watched with him, and her quiet breaths made Tim feel less self-conscious. His own breathing deepened.

The groan he had been resisting broke from him when the woman came closer to their window and bent forward slowly, one hand leisurely fondling her breasts and the other firmly pressed between her legs. His erection strained painfully inside his jeans, and he felt his eyes glaze over as he watched this beautiful woman touch herself, for him, as he listened to the sultry music float around him, and as he heard the stifled moan and felt the tightening muscles of the woman pressed next to him.

And I need to be redeemed

To the one I sinned against

Because he's all I ever knew of love...

The dancer made her way back to the center of the stage, matching her beginning pose and reaching her arms up to the ceiling as the spotlight dimmed to darkness around her body. The music faded as well, and then the curtain was closing across the glass.

Tanya stood up after a moment, taking his hand silently in the dark, and he followed her out the door, into the hallway. Others were coming out of the booths, and he pulled her along up the stairs, gripping her hand hard so as not to lose her.

They escaped into the alley, and Tanya was turned to go back to the main street, but Tim tugged on her hand in the direction of the back of the building. She met his eyes, and from the dark look he gave her, she guessed his intentions. She followed without resistance.

Around the corner and relatively hidden from view, Tim pushed Tanya up against the brick wall of the building, and she gasped from the impact. For a moment he hesitated. After all, he hardly knew her. He looked at her, his aching need displayed openly in his eyes, his full lips parted slightly as he breathed raggedly through his mouth.

"It's okay," she said softly in her velvet voice, and her hands came up around his neck as he leaned into her heavily. His lips found her pulse in her neck and he sucked on her warm, sweet skin, nuzzling her choker, kissing her throat.

"It's okay," she repeated in a whisper against his cheek, and he turned to kiss her on the mouth. Her tongue pushed in between his teeth teasingly, inviting him to do the same, and soon he was kissing her so hard that she was forced to break the contact to take a breath.

His fingers found the buttons of her shirt and fumbled with them until he was able to push the fabric away to reveal her creamy skin poured into a black velvet bra and descending into the smooth plane of her stomach. His hands knew no subtlety. His fingers moved down her throat to her breasts in a desperate movement, cupping and grasping her almost frantically.

He moaned audibly now, no longer caring what he sounded like, or who heard him. The throbbing thing between his legs was taking over all rational thought, and when her hands began to caress him there, he nearly lost it. As though sensing how close he was, she pulled away, focusing on unfastening his pants instead. Her little hands unzipped the jeans, slipping them down over his slender hips and then came forward to cup him and encircle him

with her tapered fingers.

It was too much. Tim gasped as she touched him, and leaned into her delicate hands, burying his face in her neck as he groaned into her skin. It was going to happen now, and there was nothing he could do about it. He shuddered against her, his arms clutching her small body against him as she helped him come against her skirt.

His face flushed hotly, more from embarrassment than anything else, and after a moment he untangled himself from her and arranged his clothing with fumbling, nervous hands. He wouldn't look at her.

"I'm sor-"

"Shhhh," she hissed, interrupting him. Her hand reached out to his chin and pulled - hard - until he finally met her eyes.

"There's a rule about all this. No apologizing," she explained, her expression serious. "No regrets," she added softly. "Okay?"

He nodded, and she dropped her hand from his chin. He felt her fingers wrap around his hand. "This was a good start," she said with a smile, and he half-grimaced in response. It didn't seem all that successful.

"Walk me back?" she asked, giving his hand a squeeze. Another nod, and a shy smile. She stepped away from the wall and buttoned her shirt again, smiling at him as she did.

Hand in hand, they crossed the street and strolled back to the store, stopping at its front door. She let go of his hand and fished her keys from her purse, unlocking the door, but not pushing it open.

Tanya looked at him. "You know where to find me, Tim," she said softly. "There's a lot of things to learn about yourself still."

He nodded, and sniffed a little, averting his eyes. "I know." He met her gaze. "I know."

He wasn't sure what to do. Kissing her goodbye seemed wrong for some reason. He was responsible for the stain blossoming on the fabric of her skirt, but kissing her seemed wrong, as inappropriate as shaking her hand.

He settled for a sincere look. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

She smiled enigmatically.

"I told you the jacket was you," she said softly with a teasing lilt. She pushed on the door. "Good night, Tim."

"Good night, Tanya."

He stayed until she disappeared into the back room and shut the door.

Suddenly exhausted, it took all his energy to climb the stairs up to his apartment. He slipped inside and tossed his keys on the side table, then closed the door and threw the deadbolt.

In the bathroom, he washed up and brushed his teeth, and ran some water through his hair. Looking in the mirror again, he didn't see the nervous, hungry look anymore. He saw a tired man. An unfamiliar man.

Enough. Introspection could wait until the morning. He hung up the jacket, peeled off his jeans, and fell into bed.

Tim filled his coffee mug for the third time that morning in a futile attempt to feel alert, and drank half of it as he wandered back to his desk. Frank looked up at him from across the way.

"Bayliss, you look like hell," his partner observed.

"It's your fault, Frank," Tim answered with a small smile.

"Really?"

"You're the one who told me to explore my dark side. Tempt my virtue," Bayliss answered, taking another sip from his mug.

Frank couldn't help the look of surprise on his face.

"Well, you do have your pearls of wisdom now and then, Frank," Tim admitted.

"I'm not surprised you took my words seriously, Tim. I'm surprised that you actually did something about it," he answered.

Tim smiled wryly and turned back to his work.

I'm not done yet, Frank. Not by a long shot.

THE END.

_TEMPTING VIRTUE (1/1) by ShinySherlock. Written in winter 1997/1998. Rated R. (language, sexual situations). _

_Summary: Bayliss investigates his dark side as Frank suggested. Picks up where the episode "Many Splendored Thing" left off. Not very "Homicidal," since it deals only with Tim dealing with the icky kinky sex that so upset him - no case, no other HLotS characters except a cameo by Frank._

_Disclaimer: Characters belong to NBC and Baltimore Pictures, the song "Building a Mystery" belongs to Sarah MacLachlan and the song "Criminal" belongs to Fiona Apple. Everything used without permission and no profit being made from their use._


End file.
